


Face Paint

by JamJar98



Series: Defining This [1]
Category: NCIS
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Fun, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-26
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2020-03-17 14:15:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18966895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamJar98/pseuds/JamJar98
Summary: Hand steady, he effortlessly stroked one long line across the creamy pale expanse. He leaned back, examining his handy work. Moving closer, he continued with what he was doing, a soft smile on his lips at the result of his patience. He could feel her touch on his shoulder burn his skin as she watched him.





	Face Paint

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
> 
> A/N: There is absolutely no explanation for this.
> 
> Warnings: It's NSFW my friends and definitely not for kiddies.
> 
> Enjoy*

* * *

Days later she'd probably realize that him showing up on her doorstep in a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt that had one too many holes in it, had been the doing of a couple of meddling special agents. Right now she could care less about what had led to this moment of peace and contentment. He shifted next to her, deliciously tanned skin brushing hers as he cuddled her closer to his chest. She smiled into her pillow, happily contemplating how they had ended up here.

* * *

The loud self assured knock on her door had been more than unwelcome. She'd switched off her phone on purpose, setting aside the day to get a few things done she'd been putting off since moving to DC. Tucking her hair behind her ears, she dusted off her hands on her jeans and padded barefoot to her front door.

It could either be Leon, dropping by to see if she was okay or to simply talk, or one Ellie Bishop who had looked extremely excited at the prospect of repainting. She'd reassured her that she'd manage just fine by herself, and that she should spend her rare weekend off with some friends, or at least take up Nick's offer of Saturday drinks.

The sunlight streaming through the windows was a welcome change. She missed her little beach house back in San Diego, the vast ocean right at her doorstep whenever things got too much. The three bedroom house was definitely larger than the tiny shack of a house she'd had for so long.

The insistent knock echoed through the house once again. Jack rolled her eyes, jolted from her thoughts she moseyed across the living room to the foyer. If it was some religious selling weirdo, she was going to pull her Glock faster than they could run.

Cracking the door enough for her to peek through, she glared at whoever was on the other side.

Grey hair glinted in the sunlight, slightly damp strands falling across his forehead as he pulled off his hat. Blue eyes looked at her neutrally, one eyebrow raised just enough to show his interest in the way she answered the door.

"Gibbs?" She hadn't meant to sound so surprised or so questioning.

Opening the door, she leaned her shoulder against the door frame, taking him in. There was something decidedly sexy about how scruffy he looked. The jeans he had on were frayed and hinting at tearing as it stretched over his thighs. The t-shirt did actually have holes. Some from years of wear and tear and others resulting in either welding or grinding sparks.

"Sloane." He said gruffly, hands fiddling with his cap.

"There a reason you showed up here?" It was more curiosity than annoyance that she asked him. He had never bothered to show up when she invited the team for drinks or dinner. At first she had taken it personally, affronted that he shot down each invitation. Now she knew it was more his dislike of crowds and not interfering with his team's personal lives that he stayed away most of the time.

"Heard you were paintin'." He kept his gaze trained on her face.

"Mmhhh, let me guess. The cowboy in you just couldn't pass on the opportunity to help a damsel in distress." The cheeky grin she afforded him quelled his sudden annoyance with her.

Running a hand though his hair, he pulled his worn cap back on. Shrugging a shoulder, he slipped his hands in his pockets and turned to head back to his truck. He didn't mind working, but he wasn't going to beg to help her out.

The small hand grabbing his shirt stopped him halfway down the front steps. Turning, he could hear his boots squeak on the steps. He swallowed heavily as he came face to face with her pretty flushed face. Specks of gold coloured her eyes today, drawing him in even more than they usually did. He'd never liked chocolate before he met her, but now, he found himself craving it whenever she looked at him with those large brown eyes.

"I'm kidding, Cowboy. Come on in, I've got fresh coffee in the kitchen."

She twitched her nose at him and walked away, not waiting to see if he followed. There was some manual labor, really strong coffee and a blonde sending his heart palpitating faster than it should. What more could he want?

Following the clinking of ceramic, he made his way through the old house. There was an abundance of open space, from the open plan living room and kitchen to the wide and surprisingly airy hallway. He estimated that the house had been built roughly around the same time his had been. It didn't take him long to realize why this one in particular had caught her attention.

He knew how much she loved open spaces and the need to have a window open no matter what time of day or season it was. The sweet scent of honeysuckle swept through the air, filling his nostrils and reminding him of how sweet she liked her coffee.

The air was balmy against his skin, an uncharacteristically warm day for spring. He didn't mind in the least, not when he got to see one Jacqueline Sloane moving around in a pair of short jeans and a flannel shirt. He sauntered into the kitchen just as she stretched to reach the packet of coffee grounds.

 _Daisy Duke_  short.

That's how he would describe the jeans she had on. They afforded him with a view that made his jaw go slack and his hands ball into fists. He'd stopped lying to himself months ago, ready to give in to the school boy crush he had on her. The fact that she could calm him down with a touch or a soft word was something he didn't focus on. For fear that he might realize what it was about her that made him gravitate towards her.

The flannel shirt rode up her hips, revealing a strip of skin he hadn't seen before. He should look away or at least clear his throat to alert her that he was there with her. Dragging his eyes up her body, he watched as her fingers barely reached the packet of coffee she was trying to reach.

Stepping up behind her, he swallowed hard and reached for the evasive packet. She was so close, the smell of her cinnamon and honey shampoo wafting in his face as she dropped down to her feet. He could never trust himself around her. Steak dinners, a game of cards, Christmas drinks. She was always flirting, at least he thought so, teasing him about tiny things that could make him blush.

They had been torturing each other ever since they met, and it was so delicious. Riling each other up, reaching the tip of frustration and then backing away.

"If you can't reach, how you plannin' on painting a whole wall?"

Jack pursed her lips, turning in the small space between them. He towered over her. She'd usually feel trapped, but having him this close felt better than just good. He smelled like wood shavings and welding sparks – musky and strong.

One hand was planted beside her, the other still resting high above her against the shelf. Licking her lips, she pressed her hands against his abdomen. "Oh, I have a few tricks up my sleeve, Cowboy." Pushing against him, she slipped out between him and the counter.

* * *

They stood in her spacious office, staring at the cans of paint on the floor. He was sipping his coffee thoughtfully as she tried to decide on a colour – it was his third so far. He'd thought she'd have a colour by now, especially when Ellie had mentioned to Torres that Jack was painting this weekend.

There was evergreen, Newburyport blue, an odd shade of maroon that he hoped she wasn't considering; and the pale grey from her office.

The cans had been open when they had walked in, plastic already spread across the wooden floor. She'd clearly been in the process of choosing when he'd showed up. She twirled a wisp of hair around her finger, and he had the ridiculous urge to kiss her.

"You decide yet?" He wasn't impatient, but the longer he stared at her in those jeans, the higher his blood pressure was climbing.

"I think maybe the maroon." Jack squatted next to the cans, inspecting the paint more closely.

Jethro wrinkled his nose in distaste. Knowing her indecision could take hours, he drained his coffee and set about speeding up the process.

There were four stripes of colour on the cream wall. He stood off to the side, paintbrush still in hand after drawing the last line of colour on the wall. He raised an eyebrow at her as she nodded her head, finally settling on a colour.

Jack pursed her lips, taking the brush off Gibbs as he leaned rather arrogantly against a bookcase.

"Yes, fine. Choosing a colour isn't the easiest thing for me."

"Noticed." He smirked at her as she glared back at him.

Shrugging his shoulders, he closed the other paint cans and placed them out of the way. Stretching his arms, he nodded his head towards the ceiling. "Got a couple of saw-horses on the truck, I'll do the edges while you get started on the rest."

Jack narrowed her eyes at him, wondering when he'd assumed control of the activity. "Excuse me, why can't I paint the edges?"

"I've seen you paint." He didn't bother hiding the teasing smirk spreading across his face.

She looked at him in outrage. Lunging towards him, she managed to get a smear of blue paint over his cheek before he could stop her. She snickered softly as he grasped her wrists, glaring at her murderously.

This time she was flush against him, his body warm and hard as he pressed against her invitingly. There was a look in his eyes that she had never seen before. The brush pressed against his worn t-shirt, the paint, no doubt bleeding through the material. His breath smelled like the strong Italian blend coffee he'd been sipping.

"Better get started… before it gets too late." His voice had dropped an octave, hushed and smooth as he stared back at her.

Nodding dumbly she stepped out of his grasp, calloused fingers stroking her wrists as he let go of her. Watching him leave, she pressed the back of her hand against her forehead. It had felt like that night in his basement all over again. They had toed the edge of something more, so close to foregoing his rules and her reservations.

* * *

Dipping the roller in blue paint, she watched him discreetly as he dropped from the saw-horse, jumping with more agility she knew he possessed. He had trusted her enough to paint the bottom edges of the walls, only after he had showed her how to cover the baseboard moldings. It was irritating her. He had never actually struck her as an extreme perfectionist, but she was seriously questioning her ability to profile.

On some levels he demanded perfection – their job, justice, his team – painting.

She dipped the paint roller once again, enthralled with what her painting partner was doing. He'd moved the saw-horses out into the hall, already finished with the wall edges. Currently crouched on the floor, he dipped the small brush in a small container of paint.

Hand steady, he effortlessly stroked one long line across the creamy pale expanse. He leaned back, examining his handy work. Moving closer, he continued with what he was doing, a soft smile on his lips at the result of his patience. He could feel her touch on his shoulder burn his skin as she watched him.

"Yes?" He drawled quietly, dipping his brush in the paint again.

Jack jumped slightly, his voice loud in the empty room. She dug her nails in his shoulder in retaliation for catching her off guard.

Jethro turned his head to look at her. Hand stilling mid stroke, he swallowed heavily. Tanned thighs were right in his line of sight, those damned Daisy Duke shorts giving him a more than ample view of her toned legs. He allowed his eyes to run down the length of her tanned legs, all the way to her brightly painted toes.

"Makes sense." She muttered quietly.

"What?" He narrowed his eyes at her, standing from his couched position to paint the rest.

"What?" Jack shrugged nonchalantly.

They were almost finished, and she was already reluctant to let their day together come to an end. Spending the day with him had been more relaxing than she had though it would be. It was unsettling that she wanted him to spend the night, whether it be on the couch or her guest bedroom. Preferably her bed, but she couldn't allow herself to indulge in the possibility.

"What makes sense?" He pressed as he finished with the last stroke, dropping the paintbrush in the small container of paint.

Jack blushed, unsure if she should let him in on the fact that his team liked to gossip about him whenever they found themselves in her office. Smiling at him, she shook her head, trying to playoff the fact that she knew something about him that he wasn't aware off.

"Nothing, Gibbs." She said with a flourish as she finished with the last coat of paint.

Jethro took the small brush again, holding it up threateningly. Placing the paint out of the way, he advanced on her, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Got to be somethin' if you're all squirmy."

Backtracking as quickly as possible, she shook her head, a stern look on her face. "I swear, you get one drop of paint on me..."

"You'll what?" The amusement in his voice resulted in a smirk as he watched her take a few steps backwards.

Taking another step she collided with a saw-horse, stopping her from getting away. Holding up her hands in surrender, she smiled at him as best she could, keeping a close eye on the paintbrush in his hand. "Okay, okay… McGee might have mentioned something about you and paint."

Jethro glared at her. It was bad enough that McGee off all people knew about his childhood dreams, but Sloane. The power she held over him now was dangerous.

"I didn't want t say anything because-"

"Tim's a grown man, he can fight his own battles." Jethro growled darkly, determined to interrogate McGee on exactly where his loyalties lay.

Jack rolled her eyes, not in the least fooled by his show of annoyance. Biting her lip, she made sure she had ample space to escape in case Gibbs decided to attack her with his paintbrush. "I know how sensitive you are."

It was a split second, or he would have had her. She gave a quiet scream as she felt his fingers graze her shirt. He was barreling down on her, and she doubted she'd be fast enough to escape this time.

"Eek!"

The shout turned into a fit of giggles as Gibbs wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tightly into his side. The fight she put up was halfhearted as she settled into his side, one hand clutching the tattered t-shirt and the other pushing at his shoulder weakly.

"Who said that?" He was trying his damn best to sound threatening, but the sound of her laughter was enough to break down his defenses.

Jack squirmed in his tight grip, knowing that if he sensed that she was uncomfortable he'd let her go. She was so close to him. Nose almost buried in the crook of his neck as she shied away from his threatening paintbrush. She could feel his heart beat excitedly against his ribs, almost in rhythm with her own racing heart.

"Don't you dare." She protested as he brought his hand closer.

"Jacqueline..."

The sound of her full name rolling off his tongue sent a shiver down her spine, straight to the pit of her stomach. He'd never called her that, no one ever called her by her full name. Biting her lip, she stooped pushing at his shoulder, instead grabbing the material in a small fist.

As much as she wanted to call this little game quits and drag him to her bed, she'd never give him the pleasure of defeating her. It was an Army thing. Shaking her head resolutely, she glared at him instead. "Doesn't matter, what matters is that you don't deny it."

The paint was cold as he smeared it across her cheek.

Doubt quickly washed over him as she went stiff in his grip, wondering if he'd overstepped whatever had transpired between them.

"You're a dead man, Leroy Jethro Gibbs." She seethed at him as she gingerly touched the paint on her cheek.

Raising an eyebrow, he tightened his grip on her and smirked mischievously as he brought the brush down over her face again, drawing a line down the bridge of her nose and ending it with a dot on the tip of her nose.

Grabbing for the brush, she squirmed in his grip, trying to reach the offending tool as he held it above his head. The smile on his face was far too smug for her liking. It was bad enough that she was still too short when she had heels on, but bare foot she never even stood a chance.

"Tell me." He growled right in her ear as she managed to get a hold of his forearm.

"Fine," she sighed as he scowled at her. "Bishop happened to mention something about a book you had been reading. Sensitive something."

Jethro glared, not letting up on his grip. "Was Tobias' book, from when he lived there."

She laughed at him, cheeks flushed and her head thrown back. "Uh huh, sure, let's ignore the fact that it was on your nightstand, and he was sleeping on the couch."

He wasn't nearly as embarrassed as he let on to be, seeing her laugh was worth his bruised ego. He could have let her go, but she seemed as reluctant as him to move from their current position. The laughter slowly died down as she started catching her breath. One arm slung around his shoulders and the other gripping at his shirt, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he kissed her.

The smile didn't fade from her lips, nor did she seem to mind their proximity.

Touching a finger to the already dried paint on her cheek, he ran his thumb across the smear. "I really like that colour."

He could smell the sweetness of the candy she had been eating on her breath. Strong, sweet – her. Since the moment he'd met her he had associated her with anything sugary. She fluttered her lashes, big whiskey brown eyes looking up at him. The arm holding her close dropped to her hip, allowing her to back away if she wanted to.

He heard the hitch in her breathing as he leaned down, nose pressed to the tip of hers. He felt the brush of her fingers over his skin, her fingers traveling to the nape of his neck. They were both analyzing and overthinking the repercussions if they crossed the proverbial line.

Encouraged by her eagerness to participate, he pulled her hips against his. She was warm against him, her body soft as she molded into the embrace. He touched his lips to her, hesitant at first, waiting for her to realize they were making a mistake.

He tasted the sugary sweetness on her lips, soft and pliant. Breathing against her lips, he felt his heart kicking against his ribs with excitement. Craving the taste of sugar on her lips, he kissed her again. Braver than before, he touched the tip of his tongue to her lips. She parted her lips and before he could stop himself, he was tasting the sugar off her tongue.

Heart thumping and one hand curled around her hip possessively, he groaned as she pulled away.

Jack tried catching her breath, trying to remember when was the last time a man had set her body on fire the way he just had. He'd been attentive – gentle even. His lips had been soft against hers, catching her off guard. He was always so gruff, rough edged and nowhere near as graceful as he just had been.

Blue eyes blinked slowly – and that's when she realized it.

The paint on the walls reminded her of him. The dark smoldering colour on his cheek matched his eyes perfectly as he watched her with heavy lidded eyes. The room had always been an escape, somewhere she felt safe and free. The fact that she associated him with the room and colour revealed far too much about how she felt about him.

Reaching for the hand on her hip, she took his calloused hand in hers. Leading him back to where they had come from. She heard something land with a soft thunk as they passed the study on the way to her bedroom.

* * *

They stood in the middle of her bedroom. The windows open, allowing the humid air to fill the room.

There was some hesitation on both their parts. Doing this in the dead of night was one thing. The darkness could easily cloak their fears and reservations. The sun was just starting the reach for the horizon, there was no hiding with the flick of a switch when their emotions started manifesting.

Wrapped up in the new sensation of exploring each other, they slowly started shedding some of their barriers. A watch fell to the floor with a dull thud, followed by Jethro's belt, his phone still attached. He toed off his boots while she kissed her way to his Adam's apple.

Jack shrugged off his hands as he reached to unbutton her shirt. Preoccupying him by sticking her tongue in his mouth and focusing on the button of his jeans. She made her pleasure known as she reached for his zipper, feeling him pressing tightly against the confines of his jeans.

He knocked her hands away. Nudging her jaw with his nose, she tilted her head back. Trailing his lips down the column of her throat, she found a hole on his t-shirt. Fingers toying with the chest hair she could feel through the hole, he rocked his hips against hers.

She muttered incoherently as he found his way to her clavicle. He pulled her shirt aside, gaining more access to her skin. A large hand drifted under her shirt, closing over her breast. Calloused fingers traced over the swell of her breast, the sensitive skin tingling as he squeezed gently. Pulling his hair gently he retaliated by nipping the soft skin of her throat.

Jethro snaked his other hand between them, slowly unbuttoning the shirt. He felt her stiffen, her grip on his hair tightened as she pushed his hand away. He didn't think much of it the first time, but now he was worried that she felt forced into this. Pulling away from her, he felt her nuzzle her nose against his throat, sucking the spot over pulse. He groaned and dropped his head to her shoulder, hips seeking friction against hers.

"Jack," he was breathless as he managed to catch his bearings.

She hummed against his throat, and his loosened jeans grew tighter still. "We..." he broke off as she kissed up his throat, teeth nipping. "If you're uncomfortable..." it was taking more self control than he possessed. "We don't have to do this if ya feel uncomfortable."

Taking a step back she looked at him guardedly, hands dropping to the hem of her shirt, hoping to keep it on. She bit her lip as his hands found hers on the buttons, slowly taking the tiny buttons and sliding them back into their respective holes.

Men before him hadn't been too concerned about getting her completely naked. She'd always managed to get them drunk enough not to remember much and then taking what they had to give to get them both off before everything started catching up to them.

Jethro wasn't drunk, he wasn't looking for a good time. He had simply tried to help her, and one thing had inevitably led to another. If she hadn't wanted this, she would have sent him on his a long time ago.

Stopping his hands on the buttons, she looked up at him. He'd seen them before, the ridges and welts that represented her demons. He never said anything about them, had accepted them as a part of her, as if they hadn't been ugly and raw.

"I'm not exactly… pleasing to look at." It was her way of dealing with the initial rejection when he did see them this time. Men had always pushed her away the next day when they did happen to see the history she carried with her. It had hurt, it always hurt when they recoiled and tried to get away.

"Bullshit." He said gruffly, silently seething at the thought of someone telling her she wasn't beautiful. Touching his finger under her chin, he looked down at her. "It's over now, Jack. He can't come back." he watched as she nodded her understanding, body relaxing more into his this time. "You're gorgeous, Jack. Any self respecting man will adore them as much as he does you."

She blushed and buried her face in his chest, not seeing the red tint that shot across his cheeks as he went over what he had just said. Clearing his throat, he had her take a step back. "Might tell you the same thing when I take off my shirt."

She looked at him quizzically, unsure of what he meant. She knew he had been shot a number of times. She was also aware that there were some things that had been taken out of the personal file she'd been through before coming to DC.

Jethro grit his teeth painfully hard. The entire office had known that he had been within inches of death, his team never talked about it. Leon had agreed to keep it out of his personal file on grounds that no one would deem him unfit or too much of a risk to continue with his job. The rest of NCIS had only received communication that another agent had been shot, respectfully keeping his name out of the announcement.

No one had seen the scar on his chest, except his doctors.

Pulling the shirt over his head, he dropped it to the floor.

There was a myriad of scars on his body, most of them a result of being shot or stabbed. The one on his shoulder was the most prominent, a constant reminder of Kate's death. Another on his side remnant of his days in Paris. Others were mere nicks and misses of bullets that had grazed him over the years.

The scar in the middle of his chest was the most recent. It was sometimes almost invisible, but on warm sunny days like today, where he'd been working in the heat, it was bright red and warm to the touch. He'd never been overly self-conscious about his body. But this was his brush with death, a reminder that his life could have been over.

Jack stared at him, mouth open slightly and her warm breath washing over his sweaty skin. He shifted under her gaze, waiting for the inevitable 'what happened'. If this made her feel more relaxed and at ease he'd let her stare at him for as long as she needed. A small hand danced over the tense muscles of his abdomen, finger stroking the smattering of hair on his chest.

Brown eyes looked up at him, suspiciously watery. He matched her gaze, waiting for her to either back off or say something. The hand on his chest moved over his chest, palm stroking the scar softly.

"Ow!" He snapped at her as she picked at the paint that stained his skin.

"Sorry." She murmured softly.

Leaning forwards she kissed the hollow of his throat. He let out a strangled breath as she continued down his sternum. Placing her hands over his ribs, she stroked the soft skin reassuringly as she let her lips drift over the scar. His skin was warm and salty, soft and roughened by years of hard work.

Taking a step back she took his hands in hers. Blue eyes dark with lust, reminding her once again of the colour she had chosen. Grasping his large hands, she placed them on her own chest, silently urging him to unbutton her shirt.

"You don't have to-"

"I want you to." She interjected quickly.

Jethro eased the top button through its hole, watching her face intently for any sign that she was uncomfortable. He stopped when she closed her eyes. Pressing a soft kiss to her lips, he moved to the second button.

The last button slid through its hole.

He stilled his movements, waiting for her to let him know that she was okay. She seemed to consider the outcome, still somewhat hesitant with the idea of undressing in front of him. Placing both hands on her hips, he stroked his thumbs over the sensitive flesh. Focusing instead on kissing the sensitive spot behind her ear, he felt her palms press against his chest.

The flannel shirt dropped to the floor, revealing her to him.

He sucked in a sharp breath, his body responding to hers immediately. One arm snaked around her back, pulling her naked torso against his. She was soft and supple against him, every soft curve seemed to mold into the hard planes of his body.

Jack pulled his head down to hers, eager to taste him once more. The touch of his tongue against hers sent a shock down her spine, causing heat to pool in the pit of her stomach. One hand gripped her hair, almost bordering on painful. Feeling one hand drift up her back, she stiffened involuntarily.

"You okay?" His voice was unbelievably soft in her ear, concern quickly colouring the need.

Nodding she relaxed against his chest. Calloused fingers stroked over the marred skin, the pads of his fingers massaging the tense muscles he found. He reached for the clasp of her bra, fingers sliding underneath easily. He unclasped it without difficulty, drawing the straps down her arms slowly.

Grabbing her thighs, he lifted her with ease, ignoring the pain shooting through various parts of his body. Carrying her to the large queen sized bed. He dropped her without any grace of forewarning. He grinned down at her as she bounced of the surface, hand immediately covering her breasts.

"You did that on purpose." She accused lightly, one foot resting against his thigh as he tried to crawl over her.

"Nah." Jethro shook his head, easily knocking her leg out of the way.

"It's a good thing you're cute." She pulled him in for a kiss. Smacking her lips as he moved down her throat again, she moaned softly as he kissed down between the valley of her breasts. Carding her fingers through his hair, she arched her back as he closed his mouth over one breast.

Wrapping her legs around his middle, she hooked her toes inside the waistband of his jeans, forcing them down his thighs. She hissed as he grazed his teeth against her overly sensitive nipples. "Easy, Cowboy. It's been a while." He laved them apologetically, closing a hand over each breast he moved down her body.

Jethro groaned as he finally wormed his fingers into the waistband of her sinful Daisy Duke shorts. He smirked as she looked back at him. "These shorts have been drivin' me crazy all day." she raised her hips as he pulled them down her thighs and finally throwing them somewhere on the floor.

"Good." She sassed as he licked his lips. "Serves you right for showing up here without an invitation."

Rolling his eyes, he shifted until he could slide off the bottom of the bed. She stared back at him, breast heaving with each shallow breath, skin flushed a bright and welcoming shade of pink. "Haven't heard ya complainin'."

Jack smiled at him as he kicked off his jeans. The dark grey boxers he had on were tented with his obvious arousal. Pushing herself up on one arm, she crooked her finger at him, silently ordering him to join her. "Lose the boxers first."

He looked at her with darkened eyes. Dropping them to the floor, he watched her uncertainly; it had been a few years since he had stripped naked in front of a woman.

Licking her lips, she couldn't help but let her gaze drift down his body. He stood before her in all his stark naked glory. Large, thick and pulsing.

Sliding her hands inside her panties, she pushed them off her thighs and kicked them away. She didn't have to invite him again. He had her on her back before she could even catch her breath. She laughed out loud as he moved them farther up her bed with one forceful grunt. He laughed with her, lips on her the moment he had her flat on her back.

Supporting himself on one arm, he traced his fingers between her breasts, over her stomach to her hips. She tilted her head back, mouth already agape with anticipation. Sucking the sensitive skin of her throat, he let his fingers drift down her hips, to the inside of her thigh.

The room was hot and intoxicating with the smell of sex and their combined precipitation. Running one thick finger over her, he groaned. She was slick and already quivering with excitement. Sliding one digit inside her, she gasped, her voice suddenly high pitched as she swore.

Placing a kiss to her temple, he eased another finger inside her, feeling her shudder against him. Rubbing his thumb against her, she grabbed the bed sheets, twisting them and throwing her head back.

"Son of a bitch!" She rocked her hips in time with his strokes. "More, Gibbs. Just go faster."

He watched her lose herself in the moment, her skin sparkled with a thin sheen of sweat, her hair a tangled mess as he got her off. The sun was warm as it finally started sinking behind the horizon. He was visibly straining as he pressed himself against her thigh, a few more minutes of watching her and he would have lost it.

Giving a few seconds to recover, he settled between her thighs, unable to stop his hips from bucking as he brushed against her inner thigh. Jack wrapped her hand around him, twisting her wrist a few times.

Hooking her legs over his hips, she held her breath as he slowly slid inside her. Biting her lip to stop the whimper from the sudden intrusion, she arched her back and tightened her legs around him. Jethro groaned in her ear, her name falling form his lips in a soft mantra.

Rolling his hips against hers, he felt her nails bite into his back. He shifted his hips, sliding one hand under her back, he tilted her hips up. He grunted as she tightened around him, pleasure sending shivers down his spine as she contracted around him.

"Jethro," she moaned in his ear, moving to facilitate the new position.

Managing to get his other hand between them, he flicked her softly with his thumb. Age and experience had taught him that it was going to take them some time before they knew exactly what could send the other into ecstasy.

Fingers wrapped around his wrist, pressing his thumb harder against her. It was all he needed to know. Matching his thrusts to the rhythm of her hips and his hand, he felt her contract around him sporadically. She moaned low in her throat, legs tightened around his waist as her orgasm raced through her. He tried to hold on a few more seconds before he stiffened over her. He growled hips twitching as his spine tingled with his own release.

* * *

They were both breathless, hearts pounding.

"Wow." Jack whispered softly. She was sprawled across his chest, sheets wrapped around their cooling bodies as they watched the last few rays of sunlight dance around in the room.

She ran her fingers over the scar on his chest while his traced the welts on her back. Snickering softly, she knocked her skull against his a little unpleasantly. "Good thing my neighbors aren't here."

Jethro laughed with her. They had only realized a few minutes ago that the curtains and blinds were still open. He watched her intently as she studied the various scars on his body, her touch was soothing – healing almost. She was still sporting the paint he'd adorned her with.

The patch of paint on his chest was constantly under inspection whenever she strayed near it, and he had to stop her from picking at it in fear that she might rid him of his chest hair. He ran his fingers down her spine, turning his faced into her palm as she stroked the blue line of paint under his own eye.

"It really is a nice colour." Jack sighed as she snuggled into his chest again. "What are you doing next weekend?"

Jethro shifted pulling her against his chest, pressing his lips to her shoulder, he shrugged. "Why you askin'?"

Looking at him over her shoulder, she smiled at him teasingly. "I was thinking about repainting the guest room."

He pinched her side playfully as he cuddled her closer against him. Dropping kisses over her shoulder, he looked at her with dilated pupils, lips drawn up in a lustful smile.

"Oh, I have a few ideas of making it a pleasant experience."


End file.
